Page 1 of Daddy Detectives: Episode 1
Prologue
If you know who Tyler and Ian are—if you’ve already read their origin stories (Somebody to Love, Somebody to Hold,andSomebody to Cherish)—you don’t need to read this prologue. If you haven’t read their origin stories, keep reading if you want to get up to speed on their backstory quickly. Keep in mind, there are some spoilers below, so if you don’t want to read spoilers, then you might want to go ahead and read their origin stories first.
Somebody to Love: Once upon a time, a grumpy Chicago homicide detective, Tyler Jamison, was investigating the murder of a man who was killed on his boat in an exclusive Chicago yacht club. In the process, he met a young, gay, trust fund baby named Ian Alexander, a real ray of sunshine. Ian was the dead man’s friend and the person who discovered the body.
To make a long story short, Tyler eventually realizes he’s developing some inconvenient and uncomfortable feelings for Ian. Very uncomfortable, because Tyler had always assumed he was heterosexual; he just thought he’d never found the right woman. Ian, on the other hand, who’s been out and proud since he was a young child, is head over heels in love with the older, stern homicide detective. It takes Tyler a lot of painful soul searching to realize he’s attracted to Ian. Eventually, Tyler finds the courage to come out to his sister and his mother, both of whom love and support him unconditionally. That scene is a tearjerker—at least it was for the author.
The ending is a bit dramatic when Tyler saves Ian from a murderous attack.
Somebody to Hold: Tyler and Ian are getting used to living together in Ian’s Gold Coast townhouse. Tyler’s just glad he nolonger has to go home to an empty condo. He ends up losing his job when he violates departmental policy to rescue Ian’s younger sister, Layla, who has been abducted by sex traffickers.
After being fired from his job with the Chicago police department, Tyler decides to get his private investigator’s license. He wants to be able to help people. And as a PI, he can now help living people rather than getting justice for the deceased. Things heat up in their second book when a man who’s obsessed with Ian starts stalking him. The situation gets dicey when the stalker makes an attempt on Tyler’s life.
Somebody to Cherish: The trilogy ends with a wedding and a honeymoon trip to Key West, where our two heroes investigate the abduction of a toddler. When they return home to begin their new lives as husbands, Ian decides to join Tyler in the private investigation business. In the epilogue, with the help of a surrogate, Tyler and Ian welcome the births of their twin son and daughter.
Chapter 1 – Tyler
As I’m standing in the checkout lane at the grocery store, there’s a woman in front of me with two young kids in her shopping cart, both reaching for candy on the rack next to them. The poor frazzled mother is trying to shoo her children away from the candy while she’s simultaneously handing the cashier a thick stack of coupons. It looks like we’re going to be here a while. I glance down at the contents of my own cart—diapers, baby wipes, cans of formula, more bottles, and a package of pacifiers—and smile.
How many bottles do two babies need?
I quickly do the math—two bottles times approximately seven feedings a day. That’s a lot of bottles. It’s no wonder our kitchen counter has turned into a baby-bottle-sterilizing station.
“Mom sent you out to do the shopping, didn’t she?” The amused voice comes from directly behind me. “You’re a good husband to help her out.”
I turn to the white-haired woman standing in line behind me. She’s peering at the contents of my cart with a nostalgic smile on her softly wrinkled face. “I remember those days,” she says wistfully. “How old is your baby?”
“Two, actually. They’re two weeks old.”
Her smile widens. “Twins? How wonderful. Congratulations to you and your wife.”
My heart stutters in my chest, and it takes a moment for my pulse to even out. I’m still not entirely comfortable with outing myself in public. If my husband, Ian, were here, he’d be telling her his life story, and they’d be making plans to meet up for coffee. As for me? I’m the reserved one.
I steel myself for the potential blowback and say, “It’s husband.”
“I’m sorry?” She’s clearly not following.
“I don’t have a wife, ma’am. I have a husband.”There. I said it. Ian would be proud.
She frowns, but I can’t tell if it’s from confusion or disapproval. “You have ahusband?You mean two—oh!” Her blue eyes widen as her lips form a perfect O. “I see.”
I’m expecting the worst, but she surprises me by smiling and saying, “Well, congratulations to you both.” She studies me a moment. “I didn’t take you for a gay man.” She chuckles nervously. “Not that gay men have to look a certain way. It’s just that you don’t seem the type—you’re far too serious. But I assure you, I fully support LGBTQ rights. In fact, I have a great nephew who’s gay.”
Before I can respond, the young female cashier calls to me. “Excuse me, sir?”
I face the young woman as she motions me forward. The woman who was ahead of me in line is now pushing her cart out the door. “Sorry.” I start unloading my cart onto the conveyor belt.
“No problem,” she says, grinning as she starts scanning my purchases. “Congratulations on becoming a father.”
I return her smile. “Thanks.”
After paying for the items, I push my cart out to the parking lot and load everything into the trunk of my black BMW. The thing is ten years old, but it doesn’t look like it. It’s in pristine condition and runs great. Ian keeps trying to talk me into buying something new, something flashier or more expensive, but I’m like,nah. It’s paid off.
It’s ten o’clock on a Friday morning in early September when I’m heading back to the townhouse Ian and I share in the Gold Coast neighborhood of Chicago. Before we met, I lived alone ina condo in Lincoln Park, a suburb just north of the city. After I lost my job with the Chicago Police Department, it made sense that I sell my place and move in with Ian. I was already spending nearly all of my free time there anyway, and I’d started to dread going home alone to my empty condo.
The two-story brick townhouse we now share is spacious, with four bedrooms and a rooftop greenhouse—Ian’s happy place. Well, it’soneof his happy places—the other is his small yacht moored at the nearby Chicago Yacht Club.
This morning traffic is light, which is a rarity for downtown Chicago. I follow Lake Shore Drive until I reach our turn off. We live on a quiet, treelined street of brownstones, a block from Lake Michigan.
